


And So We Set Out To Bring Back That Miracle Love

by esmereldagrace



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Endgame Fix-It, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), mentions of depression and anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 17:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18721648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esmereldagrace/pseuds/esmereldagrace
Summary: “Did you ever want to stay behind?”There was a moment of silence, Steve stilling, his breath hitching as he processed the question. Bucky could feel dread and cold fill his veins, but he dared not to look at Steve just yet.“Stay behind when?” Steve asked, his voice an unusual mix of confusion and wariness.“When you went to go and put the stones back in time.”It took a second, but Steve leant back to look right at Bucky, the realisation at what he was getting at transforming Steve’s face into utter disbelief, making Bucky squirm uncomfortably in place.Steve looked horrified, face pale.“Wait, back in the past?”





	And So We Set Out To Bring Back That Miracle Love

**Author's Note:**

> *waves*
> 
> It's my first time here after a good half a decade of loving these two boys. And I had to end up writing my first ever fic for them after this ending we got, huh? 
> 
> Let's just say that I hadn't thought that after seeing Avengers:Endgame last week that I'd come home sobbing for the next week every single day, after what they did to Steve, Bucky, and so many others. This fic was some catharsis for me, because those who love and adore Steve like we do realise that the ending that we got wasn't something our Steve would ever do, and so this is my way of fixing that, and a way of healing my broken heart. Also, I needed Bucky to feel loved and cared for more than anything. 
> 
> So, this is a soft, fluffy little fic full of cuddly boys, heart to hearts, and cupcakes. 
> 
> Massive thanks to Cherimola and Cailenbraern for their support and cheerleading! It means the world. ♥
> 
> Title comes from Matt Corby's beautiful song [Miracle Love](https://youtu.be/wHBcO4bjBXs). This is also not beta-ed so any mistakes you find, will be of my own making. Apologies in advance! 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading if you do! ♥

 

Nightmares, bad dreams. Bucky was used to it now.

There were stretches of days and weeks where those black tendrils seeped into his unconsciousness, bringing about images of death and destruction, pain and suffering, tears and anguish. Memories long buried, almost burned out of his brain, making their way to the forefront again.

And annoyingly, tonight was one of those nights.

Bucky had woken up with a start, breathing hard and fast. The sweat had stuck his t-shirt horribly to his skin, shivers wracking his body. The first thing he’d done was jump straight into the shower to wash off the grime and dirt and the blood and the cold, _the cold_ , away under the hot water.

After, everything...Steve had decided that his part as Cap was over in this war, but not so over with that he wanted to give it up completely.

He was Steven Grant Rogers, son of Sarah Rogers after all. He was loyal, and honourable, faithful, and everything in between.

A goddamn stubborn fighter till the end, whether it was a war in the literal sense, or a war of justice on the streets. There was no chance in _hell_ that he was ever going to back down from anything that he believed in.

Steve had a job to do, just not as Captain America, and Bucky wouldn’t ever resent that.

There was so much more work to be done, not everything was over for everyone.

Five years away had felt like only a second to Bucky and the others, but for those left on the other side of the dust, it was years of learning to live without those they loved, and trusted, and needed. Normality was a scarce resource, but the world survived, as it always did--people working together to move on and move forward, making new lives for themselves, picking up the pieces of their hearts along the way.

Sam was handed the mantle, the shield and the title, a deserving good man who Steve believed in, and who was Bucky ever to object to that. It clearly made sense, even if Sam couldn’t quite believe it himself.

The Avengers weren’t the same anymore either, another new normality to contend with. There were gaping holes where there should’ve been life, but collateral damage was a part of war and strife, Bucky and Steve knew that more than anyone. They’d both lost a lot, Steve especially--best friends, found family. There was so much trauma and loss to recover from.

But Bucky’s part in all of this wasn’t all over either, there was much he needed to make up for, no matter what Steve said, no matter how much Steve tried to convince him that there was nothing he should feel guilt for. The Winter Soldier had done a lot of terrible things... _Bucky_ had done a lot of terrible things. And all the good in the world wasn’t going to wash away the worst of his time as a weapon, as an asset.

However, he could try to fix things--and so being on Sam’s side on missions whenever he was needed, with Steve on his six as the brilliant strategist he was, Bucky hoped that it was enough.  

Both Bucky and Steve had been yearning for home after years of being away, so it made sense then, that Brooklyn became home once more.

A little brownstone, a home and a heaven of their own design. They both sought out help alone and together, so they could get through the rest of their days and life without feeling like they had weights on their chest, pushing them down and down, crushing them till they couldn’t breathe anymore.

However they were by each other’s side this time, no longer broken apart and tossed across continents and time, and that was the biggest blessing of them all.

Finally, together at last.

They were in a future that seemed out of their grasp, a future in which they were both learning to live, but they were _together_...and that’s what counted, what made sense in every way.

They were each other’s safe space, each other’s home.

And so here Bucky was on the couch, with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, in front of the television at three in the morning. A dog was snoring in his lap, a hand rhythmically stroking over his back, and the rainfall drumming loudly on the windows. The sound was soothing enough to bring Bucky back from his spiralling thoughts, and the television was distraction enough too.

Bucky didn’t know how long he’d been sitting in one place, the soft huffs of Wolf, their Golden Retriever's, breath hitting his flesh hand was comforting in it’s own way, as well as his belly rising and falling against his legs, a reminder that there was life beyond the horrific things he’d seen and done.

No matter the time of day, no matter the distraction, Bucky could feel he wasn’t alone any longer, the air shifting around him as the whisper of feet crossed the front room from behind him. Steve’s presence was enough to shift the ground beneath his feet in the best way possible, without the serum or not. It had always been that way.

Bucky closed his eyes, anticipating the feel of warm but strong hands smooth over his shoulders, and they did--along with the softest of kisses to the top of his head, and Bucky was loathe not to lean into it like a flower craving sunlight.

“Hey,” came the sleepy rumble.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered back.

“Bad dreams?”

Bucky nodded minutely, Steve coming around to sit on the couch next to him, a hand not leaving Bucky’s shoulder the whole time, his touch grounding. With a soft yawn, Steve sat himself down, their thighs and shoulders touching.

Glancing to his side, Bucky couldn’t help but smile.

Steve’s hair, longer now, was sticking up on one side, his eyes barely open, wearing that stupidly soft, chunky sweater he loved living in. Sam had said that Steve had developed a 'grandad' aesthetic since he’d semi-retired, and Bucky was inclined to agree. But the sweaters were pretty soft, and Bucky may have borrowed one to sleep in whenever Steve was away. They were fluffy and warm, okay? So were his sweatpants, and a bunch of his flannel shirts too. Maybe Steve didn’t have the worst taste, but he did need some help on the shopping front sometimes, which Bucky was more than happy to oblige him with when he could.

The last he remembered however, Steve had fallen asleep wearing a t-shirt.

“You cold?” Bucky asked.

Steve’s hand had migrated from Bucky’s shoulder and to the nape of his neck, massaging softly. “It’s chilly--I think it’s been raining all night. How long have you been awake?”

“Can’t remember,” Bucky said honestly, a strained smile on his lips.

Steve only smiled back, that sunshine smile of his framed by his soft beard that had flecks of gray, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “That’s okay.”

“You should be sleeping,” Bucky said, reaching out with his hand to fix Steve’s bedhead, thumb coming down to brush against the grain of his beard. “Why’re you awake with me?”

“I missed you,” Steve replied, leaning into Bucky’s touch this time. “The bed wasn’t as warm without you.”

Bucky understood that, when it was Steve who had a sleepless night or two, Bucky didn’t like being alone either.

Bucky gestured to Wolf on his lap. “You just miss this big guy sleeping with you, don’t lie to me.”

Steve just laughed, the soft rumble breaking the cold shell of anxiety that had surrounded Bucky after the bad dream. Steve’s laugh was enough to fix the problems in the world, Bucky thought. Just one look at those eyes and Steve’s resolve to good for the world was enough to bring Bucky to his knees.

God, there wasn’t much Bucky wouldn’t do for Steve.

As if Wolf knew they were talking about him, his eyes flew open, gaze falling on Steve as he barked softly, licking at Steve’s fingers and wagging his tail excitedly.

“He came with you, did he?” Steve asked, giving him a good scrub over the head and a scratch under his chin, but he didn’t leave Bucky’s lap.

Bucky laughed this time. “Thought he loved you more, sweetcheeks, maybe not today.”

Steve and Wolf were hopelessly in love with each other. They’d been inseparable since the day they’d met at the local shelter from where they’d rescued him. They’d almost ended up with a cat, but watching Steve fall for Wolf right in front of his eyes had made Bucky’s decision for him. Steve deserved the world.

It was funny how a suggestion from a therapist had become a part of their lives in an irrevocable way, although Bucky or Steve wouldn’t have had it any other way.  

Steve narrowed his eyes at Bucky, and shook his head with a soft smile. “Maybe he sensed that you needed him more, just like you know when I need you.”

Bucky didn’t get why Steve kept coming back to him, but what he did know was that there wasn’t anything on God’s green earth that’d ever separate them again, even if sometimes it felt like he wasn’t worth all of this. Then Steve said and did shit _like that_ thatmade his heart soar, what right did he have to do that?

“You fuckin’ sap,” Bucky said instead, trying not to laugh, knocking his shoulder against Steve’s. God, he hoped he wasn’t blushing.

Steve laughed some more, knocking his own shoulder into Bucky’s, and tucking a stray strand of Bucky’s hair behind his ear. “Got to see that smile, didn’t I? Worth it.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, unable to stop the smile that emerged on his own lips, and that was answer enough. Steve then dropped his head to rest on Bucky’s shoulder, his arm linking through his. Bucky took a calming breath and rested his cheek on Steve’s head, both breathing in and out in sync, like they were one.

“How’s Nadiya doing?”

Bucky frowned a little in confusion before realising that Steve was talking about the show on the television. He’d taken to watching ‘ _The Great British Bake-Off_ ’ when he had some spare time, or couldn’t sleep. Steve would watch bits and pieces when he woke up with him, and like him, found it meditative in a way. It was just a bunch of people baking and being nice to each other. No high stakes, but plenty of drama.

“I think she’s gonna win it. Did you see that soda can thing with the foam coming down? She’s insanely talented.”

“Hmm, I think so too.”

“Still don’t like Paul though,” Bucky added. “There’s just something about him, shifty fella.”

“I get that--Mary could definitely come over for dinner.”

Bucky threaded their fingers together, giving Steve’s hand a squeeze. “She’d never refuse an invite from ex-Captain America, you kiddin’? Maybe we could get her to bake for us. Better than anything you’ve tried since we moved in here.”

Steve lifted his head, looking affronted, his eyebrows bunched together. “You shitting me? Look, I tried my best. I’m no scientist. Baking is a science.”

“It’s a skill, Stevie--one you don’t have.”

Steve conceded to the point, because Bucky was not wrong.

“Maybe old men can learn new tricks, let’s make cupcakes.” Steve grinned, and was quick to get his feet, Wolf jumping off of Bucky’s lap like _he_ was going to go help Steve make them.

“Cupcakes? Right now?”

Steve looked over his shoulder at Bucky as he headed towards the kitchen. “Yeah, why not?”

Apparently that’s a thing people did, bake cupcakes at three in the morning.

Like...a completely normal thing.

Bucky shook his head with a laugh, dropped his blanket on the couch and switched off the television. Stiff from sitting down for so long, he carefully stood up and stretched both his arms to work out the kinks, following this ridiculous, stubborn man to their kitchen.

He would follow him anywhere--what a stupidly loved up fool he was.

 

***

 

By the time Bucky got there, Steve had the eggs, flour, butter, and sugar out on the counter already. His stupid grandad sweater sleeves were rolled up, showing off his strong forearms, as he looked up a recipe on his phone.

“We’re really doing this right now?” Bucky said, propping his hip against the counter next to him and kissing Steve’s shoulder, careful of Wolf by his feet who was curiously watching what they were doing.

Steve leaned towards Bucky to give him a quick kiss to his cheek. “Baking is like therapy, right? God knows we need a lot of that.”

Bucky couldn’t disagree with that, feeling warmth radiate from the inside out from that one press of his lips to his skin. So, he re-tied his hair into a bun to the top of his head, pushing the strands he missed behind his ear. “Maybe cupcakes, the rain, and insomnia is a good combo. Let me help, huh? You found a recipe?”

Steve nodded, a sweet smile breaking out on his face with his eyes sparkling, a determined look taking over in moments. “These are going to be the best cupcakes, ever, Buck. Bake-Off winning cupcakes.”

“Sure pal,” Bucky said with a laugh. “Watch out Paul and Mary.”

It didn’t take long to get the everything together, even though it wasn’t exactly a two person job. But it looked like Steve wanted to make this a thing they do together, so Bucky wasn’t going to say no.  There were so domestic now it made Bucky’s teeth ache sometimes, but he would be a liar if he said he hated it.  It was a long forgotten dream that had become their reality.

They managed to find a cupcake tray in a cupboard somewhere, and Bucky laid out the cupcake liners as Steve spooned in the mix carefully. Bucky stole a quick taste of the leftover batter once they were done, moaning happily as Steve looked on, craving approval.

“It’s good!”

Steve cocked an eyebrow, disbelievingly. “You sure?”

“Sweetheart, would I lie to you?”

Steve smiled widely, a blush tingeing his cheeks. “Okay, good.”

As Steve put the cupcakes in the oven, Bucky grabbed a pot of peanut butter from the near the toaster, taking a spoon from the drawer too. He dug the spoon in and heaped a full teaspoon of it, holding it out for Wolf to eat, which he did, with no hesitation whatsoever.

“You’re spoiling him,” Steve commented, throwing the dirty bowl and the spoons into the sink and filling Wolf’s bowl with some water.

Bucky knew he was. “He deserves it.”

“I guess he’s a good boy,” Steve agreed, wiping his hands with a cloth, giving Wolf a pat to his head as he headed out of the kitchen, putting his water bowl down by the fridge. “I’ll be back, gimme a second.”

Bucky hated to watch Steve leave.

He didn’t know why, but it reminded him of the day Steve left to put the stones back in the time where they were meant to be. The heart-stopping anxiety he’d felt when it’d taken a second too long for Steve to reappear had almost killed him. It was stupid, Bucky knew that, but when he’d found it hard to accept who he was most of the time, he didn’t understand how Steve accepted him and loved him wholeheartedly, with no reservations or conditions. That he would willingly come back to him sometimes didn’t make sense to him.

It would’ve been easier, less painful for Steve to go back to that time. But he hadn’t and he was here.

Bucky’s momentary raised heartbeat dropped back down to the normal range when Steve came back to the kitchen, holding out his hand.

“Come on, c’mere.”

Bucky threw the spoon he’d been feeding Wolf with in the sink. “What? Where?”

“Just...take my hand.”

Bucky slid his hand into Steve’s, utterly confused as Steve dragged him back into their front room until he heard the soft strains of jazz music floating through the air. It was loud enough for them to hear, but not so loud that it drowned out the rain.

“You wanna dance? Bud, if that’s what you wanted to do I’d take you out somewhere tomorrow night, we can make a night of it.”

Steve made a face, put out. “What if I wanna dance with my best guy, right here--at home. Just the two of us? Just like Ma taught us.”

“The cupcakes will burn,” Bucky said, trying to find an excuse even as Steve slyly managed to pull him into his arms by his waist, Bucky’s hands find their place on Steve’s hips. Wolf had already moved to the couch, sensing that he was no longer needed with Steve taking over making sure their Bucky was okay, and settled in to sleep, without any bad dreams like him Bucky hoped.

“I have a timer on, it’ll be fine.”

“Stevie, come on, I’m not even wearing the right clothes--”

An old sweatshirt of Steve’s and his own sweatpants with some thick fluffy socks on his feet, though comfy, weren’t exactly dancing clothes.

Steve locked his gaze with Bucky’s, serious now. “Buck, what you’re wearing is just fine for this kinda dance, keep quiet, and dance with me.”

Bucky drank in the Steve’s face with his eyes, it was serene and so fucking beautiful it made his heart ache. Those eyelashes, _those eyelashes_ , and those blue eyes of his just couldn’t be real. The raindrops on the window cast an ethereal shadow over the both of them, making Steve in particular look otherworldly, untouchable. There was no time, than the moments they shared right now, where Steve had looked so at peace with everything.

“Okay, let’s make your Ma proud,” Bucky relented, making Steve grin brightly his way.

And God, that’s all ever Bucky had wanted. For Steve to be happy, to be safe, to be out of harm’s way. But that had always been a pipe dream. Steve was ready to throw himself into any situation going south, regardless of what happened to him, Bucky knew that.

However it was a different time now, a different _age_ , maybe there was a chance for eternal happiness.

There was only so long that Bucky could take Steve staring at him the way he was, like Bucky was his _everything_  as they slow danced on the spot, and so he shifted his gaze to over his shoulder to look out the window, closing the distance between them and burying his nose against Steve’s neck, feeling overwhelmed.

As if Steve knew exactly what Bucky needed, his arms held Bucky even closer, hands rubbing up and down his back as they swayed in one place.

“Nat said it helped,” Steve said, minutes or hours later, Bucky didn’t know.

Bucky lifted his head from his cocoon of warmth, and saw Steve smile sadly his way, understanding what he meant. Bucky also knew how he’d held Steve more than once as he’d cried himself hoarse for her and all he’d lost. His pain and grief too hard bear some days.

“The dancing kept her distracted?

Steve’s eyes grew melancholy. “Yeah, she’d do her ballet practice, try and get me to join in. She was...beautiful when she danced.”

Bucky gave Steve’s cheek a soft kiss. “You miss her.”

Swallowing around the obvious lump in his throat, Steve could only nod.

“I know,” Bucky pressed a kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth this time. “I know you do honey, and hey,” Bucky rubbed their noses together wanting to cheer him up, “this is helping, promise. Though I would’ve liked to have seen you in a leotard, would they even make one big enough to cover that ass of yours? Damn Stevie, that would’ve been a sight.”

Steve threw his head back and laughed out loud, looking over at his own ass and shrugging. “You forget this is America’s ass, Buck--not just mine.”

Bucky groaned in response. It wasn’t a joke he hadn’t ever heard before. Scott would bring it up everytime they met, bowing down to it and do all sorts of ridiculous shit. He was over it, even if he did kinda agree with it.

“Hey, your ass ain’t too bad either, and some other parts of you too,” Steve added with a wink and an obvious once over, and fuck, Bucky couldn’t take the flirting right now. It was making his body shake in the best and the worst ways.

To think there was a time they couldn’t be this easy with each other with their affection, with loving on each other like this, Bucky couldn’t stand knowing he almost didn’t have that.

“Shuddup.”

Bucky pressed their heads and cheeks together, still swaying on the spot and breathing Steve in, whole and healthy and alive. He hadn’t realised that he’d needed this to feel like he wasn’t flying around the room anymore. Years of torture and abuse had meant that Bucky would revel in any closeness and touch he was fortunate enough to indulge in, and Steve was more than willing to give it to him.

All he ever wanted was just this.

“You’re adorable,” Steve said quietly, his hand coming up to hold Bucky’s head to his as he dropped a kiss to his ear, burying his fingers in Bucky’s hair and gently massaging his scalp.

“Sweetheart, stop.”

Steve chuckled hard enough that Bucky could feel it against his own chest. “So wait, you can call me sweetheart, but I can’t say you’re adorable? That ain’t fair, Buck.”

“I hate you, punk,” Bucky said instead.

“Love you too.”

And wasn’t that the miracle of it all?

Steve loves Bucky, and Bucky loves Steve back. Then why was it his brain wouldn’t let this one question lie. The one thing that had been plaguing his mind since Steve had left to go back to the past. They’d never had the chance to talk about it afterward, with so much work to be done rebuilding the world, these things were unimportant in the scheme of things. Steve had promised he’d come back, but Bucky couldn’t help but think of the worst scenario. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if things had gone the opposite way.

What if Steve had figured out that Bucky just wasn’t worth it anymore, that Bucky was healed and healthy enough that he didn’t need him, a waste of space. What if Steve realised that Bucky had a life to live, a life without Steve, maybe, just maybe Steve would’ve let him go and left him here, all alone.

But the question was gnawing at him tonight more than it ever had, and he needed to get it out.

“Can I ask you something?” Bucky asked into the night.

“Always,” came the soft reply.

“Did you ever want to stay behind?”

There was a moment of silence, Steve stilling, his breath hitching as he processed the question. Bucky could feel dread and cold fill his veins, but he dared not to look at Steve just yet.

“Stay behind when?” Steve asked, his voice an unusual mix of confusion and wariness.

“When you went to go and put the stones back in time.”

It took a second, but Steve leant back to look right at Bucky, the realisation at what he was getting at transforming Steve’s face into utter disbelief, making Bucky squirm uncomfortably in place.

Steve looked horrified, face pale.

“Wait, back in the past?”

“Well yeah,” Bucky shrugged, not quite able to look him in the eye. “Peggy was there, right? Coulda created an alternate future or whatever, maybe you could’ve been together? She was good for you, Steve. Don’t think I didn’t see how you both would be flirtin’ back then, the eyes you had for each other. She was perfect for you.”

Steve shook his head vigorously, eyes filling with sadness and pain, “Buck, Bucky--”

But Bucky had to get this out, it was plaguing his unconscious day and night more than he knew, and so he put his hands on Steve’s chest to get his attention, to really listen to him.

“I dream about that sometimes. That you stayed behind, that you took that missed opportunity and made it yours. Made Peggy yours, had a white picket fence and the kids and grandkids. A damn normal life. And I would let you go, because when could I ever stop your stubborn ass from doing what you wanted to do, right? I would say go, and you would...you would be gone. And I’d be alone here, a man out of time all over again.”

Steve’s words were clearly not coming easy. Bucky’s fingers grasped at Steve’s sweater so he could rein in his emotions, his eyes going blurry with unshed tears anyway. “That’s all I ever wanted for you ever since I loved you, you know that? I never wanted all of this for you.”

A single tear slipped down Steve’s cheek, hitting Bucky’s metal arm, and Bucky was quick to gently wipe it away, holding Steve’s face between his hands.

Steve twisted his head to press a kiss to Bucky’s palm, a watery smile on his lips. “I never wanted all of this for you too, yet here we are.”

Bucky had no idea what to say, his chest hitching with a painful sob that couldn’t quite make it’s way out. He felt vulnerable, and ripped raw. Too much had been hidden away for too long, and tonight had to be the night that it all came tumbling out.

Putting his own hands over Bucky’s, Steve pressed their foreheads together, as if they could meld themselves into one body, becoming whole.

“Buck, sweetheart,” Steve whispered, "I never--that thought never even crossed my mind. I don’t think there’s any Steve Rogers in any universe that’d ever leave you behind.”

“You sure about that?” Bucky asked, voice shaky.

“Cross my heart and—”

Bucky pulled an inch away, but covered Steve’s mouth with his hand, angry and annoyed. “Naa, we’ve done enough dying between us, I don’t want to lose you ever again--even hypothetically.”

Steve moved Bucky’s hand away, breathing hard. “Then why would you ever think that I’d wanna lose you too, you idiot. I _have_ a family here, I have friends here. There was so much more to lose if I stayed in the past, and there was no way I was ever going to risk that. Don’t you know me, Bucky?”

Steve looked angry now, his voice becoming deep and low with anguish, and Bucky bit his lip, looking away, knowing it wasn’t directed at him, not really. It was anger about everything that they’d both been through.

“And what about Peggy? Was I really going to selfishly wipe out her own life just so I could be with her? She had a husband and kids, she was happy and had an amazing life. She was, and will always be, one of the most amazing women I ever had the fucking pleasure to know, and that I would leave you behind so I could make a house with her? Bucky, she would’ve kicked my ass for even thinking it, I’m sure of it. If Nat was here, she would’ve kicked my ass too. Do you think Sam would’ve ever let me go?”

“Bucky,” Steve said breathlessly, holding Bucky’s chin to make him really, _really_ look at Steve, more tears slipping down his cheeks. “I love you, _I love you_ \--I would never, _ever_ leave you. You make me so happy, Bucky. Nothing could keep you and me apart, and if anything ever even tried to break us apart, I would tear through every single universe to be with you.”

“Steve,” Bucky’s voice cracked then.

“Did I not come for you when you didn’t even know you needed me? I walked hundreds of miles to get you back, Bucky. I went against everyone, and it was all for you. I spent five years aching for you, wanting to find a way to get you back. I was always, _always_ selfish about you--and I know that you would’ve done the same for me too,” Steve sniffled and took a breath to calm himself, his eyes red rimmed now and Bucky hated that sight so much, hated that he’d made Steve upset. “I just wish--I wish I could’ve saved you sooner, I wish I’d known that--” he croaked out.

God, the last thing Bucky had wanted was for Steve to feel guilty for things that happened so long ago in the past that he had no control over. “Steve, you had no idea I was alive.”

“I didn’t try hard enough, Buck,” Steve said with a shake of his head, stepping away from their embrace and wiping at his face. “I gave up before I’d even tried, and god Bucky, you are worth everything and more to me. And I’ll do all of this all over again if I had to, sweetheart. I’d go to the ends of the world for you. Didn’t we say till the end of the line? That ain’t a lie, it’s never been a lie.”

Bucky blew out a breath and wiped at his own face with the sleeves of his sweatshirt, feeling ashamed and small. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve said anything.”

“No, no,” Steve moved towards him, gently bundling him in his arms again, a hand coming up to hold Bucky’s face in his hands, his thumb tracing Bucky’s bottom lip. “I’m sorry I ever made you feel this way--it’s good you said something, Buck--this is what we gotta do, right? Talk about our feelings now? We’ve been through too much to not be honest with each other, agreed?”

Bucky nodded shakily, “I do.”

“The people that need me are here, in this world, in this century. I belong here. Peggy never needed me, Buck--because the one person I need more than anything in the world is you. It’s you, Bucky..and you’re right here. Why would I go anywhere?”

Bucky wrapped his hands around the nape of Steve’s neck, thumbs brushing the underside of Steve’s jaw. “Yeah, sweetheart--I know now, I do--I’d do the same for you, you know that, right?”

Bucky was so fucking desperate for Steve to know that, to believe it, because he’d do the same, if not more for this beautiful, good, kind-hearted man in his arms, touching him and holding him, keeping him from falling apart. He just hoped he was enough for Steve.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve breathed, a small smile playing on his lips. “I know--I loved you before I even knew what love was, Bucky--there’s no chance I would’ve left you. I love you.”

And Bucky knew right then, his fears and worries alleviated, his shoulders and body feeling lighter than air. How did he ever doubt this? How did he ever doubt what he and Steve had?

“I love you too,” Bucky told him fervently. “I love you so much.”

Not wasting one more second, he crashed their lips together into a dizzying but fierce kiss full of promise and love, a kiss that would say everything he couldn’t quite say out loud.

Maybe things weren’t as easy as they could be. There was so much that Bucky and Steve both had to work through, to parse, to work out, and talk out. Decades of trauma weren’t ever going to be wiped out in minutes, or days, and it certainly didn’t define who either he or Steve were.

Healing took time, Bucky knew that. But this answer, and Steve’s fervent declaration went miles towards giving him hope. He felt worthy, he felt needed, and damn the entire world if Bucky wasn’t going to be the same, if not more, for his Steve.

Steve broke them apart, much to Bucky’s dismay, until he realised that he could hear the timer going off.

“Cupcakes are done,” Steve explained, kissing Bucky softly once more, fingers smoothing over his face and under his eyes, to dry his tears Bucky was sure. “Ready to have your mind blown?”

Bucky stroked at the crows feet at the corner of Steve’s eyes. How lucky was he that he was gonna grow old with this man?

“Well, I’ve had my brain wiped, so it can’t be worse than that.”

Steve’s eyes widened in shock, before noticing the twitch of Bucky’s lips. He’d clearly been joking.

“You son of a bitch,” Steve playfully pushed Bucky away, as they walked to the kitchen. “You’re not getting any cupcakes now, that wasn’t funny.”

Bucky could only chuckle, leaning in for one more kiss because he could. “Hey now, didn’t I help make ‘em? I have rights, Steven Grant Rogers.”

“Don’t _Steven Grant Rogers_ me, jerk.”

Bucky just laughed to himself, following Steve into the kitchen, and watching as he reverently slid the tray out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool, a mission accomplished.

They looked good, perfectly cooked and springy to the touch. Bucky hefted himself to sit on the counter and reached out to pick one up, carefully peeling the lining, pausing before taking a bite, knowing that Steve was watching his every move.

“Tell Wilson he does _not_ get my knives or my guns if I die eating this.”

Steve only looked amused, and rolled his eyes, arms folded against his wide chest. “Sure, Buck--I’ll be sure to tell him.”

So Bucky took the plunge and shoved the whole cupcake in his mouth, chewing on it slowly and savouring it...and it was _so fucking good_. But to tease Steve some, Bucky scrunched his nose up, feigning disgust.

“Is it okay?” he asked.

Bucky shrugged. “It could be better.”

Steve was frowning, looking sadder and more concerned by the second, and Bucky felt bad, not wanting him to suffer any longer. He pulled Steve close by grabbing a hold of the drawstring of his sweatpants, making him stand in between the ‘V’ of his legs.

“Stevie, they’re so good.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” and Bucky proved it by eating half of another one and feeding the other half to Steve. “It’s good, huh?”

Steve ate it slowly, smiling wider and nodded, leaning down to give Bucky a crumby, cupcake kiss. “Really good, not bad for a couple of centenarians. Maybe we can apply for the show next year.”

“Slow your horses, pal--it’s just one successful baking session. Let’s not get carried away.”

Steve laughed softly, cleaning the crumbs out of Bucky’s beard. “Maybe we can bake when Morgan comes over, we can have a competition, she can be the judge.”

“Yeah, the kid would love that.”

“Although, she’d probably have you win anyway. She loves you.”

“She loves _Wolf_ , and she’s obsessed with me and my arm.”

“Bucky, she loves you, and it’s really sweet--she really does love spending time with you.”

There was no way that Bucky could disagree with that, he kinda loved hanging out with her too. He’d promised himself he’d do right by her, give her whatever she needed after everything he’d done. She’d lost too much.

“She’s a good kid, not annoying like the other ones.”

Steve only smiled beautifically at him, and Bucky was powerless not to drag him down for a kiss, soft and slow this time, before wrapping him up in a tight hug and holding him close, thankful in so many ways.

“Thank you,” Bucky whispered into his chest.

Steve had stayed up in the middle of the night with him even though he’d come home late after a meeting with Sam and some higher ups. Then he’d made Bucky cupcakes, danced with him as it rained outside, wanting to ease his anxiety, to help him forget about his nightmares.

Steve knew him well.

He was...too good for him, but maybe, just maybe Bucky was good for him too.  

“Anytime,” Steve said, smiling down at Bucky once he let him go, hands smoothing over his shoulders again as he gave Bucky a lingering kiss to his forehead.

There was no better feeling on this planet than Steve’s lips on his skin.

“We’re okay?” Bucky checked in, needing to know that he’d not messed this up.

Steve played with Bucky’s ear with a slow smile. “We’re okay.”

A sudden yawn from Steve had Bucky laughing, and Steve feeling sheepish. Even if Bucky maybe wouldn’t fall asleep tonight, he was going to make sure Steve did.

Bucky moved to kiss Steve’s crooked nose with a light peck. “Gonna let me take care of you, punk? Come on, let’s go to bed.”

Steve waved it away. “It’s fine, you don’t have to--”

“Nope,” Bucky interrupted, jumping down from the counter and shutting Steve up. “I’m coming with you.” He took a hold of Steve’s hand, taking him back to their bedroom and switching off the lights along the way.

Steve didn’t complain once at being manhandled, and let Bucky strip his sweater off for him. Steve got into bed, holding the covers open for Bucky to climb in, waiting for Bucky to undress and press his back to Steve’s chest so he could wrap him up in his arms, their legs tangling. And so he did.

Bucky settled his head on the pillow, feeling soft, comforting, and warm kisses being pressed to the nape of his neck.

Wolf came into their bedroom seconds later, his tags jangling as he jumped up into bed, tucking himself into Bucky’s arms, clearly feeling left out of the love fest.

The huff of a laugh from Steve had Bucky jerk in surprise, and he was helpless to not laugh along.

“We’re lucky we have a big bed,” Steve mumbled sleepily into Bucky’s skin.

“That’s true.” Bucky stroked a hand over Wolf’s head, who had buried his nose under Bucky’s chin. Feeling blanketed either side by the two things he loved was a comforting in the best way.

Bucky finally closed his eyes, the rain that was still beating a gentle tattoo on the windows was gently lulling him into a doze, until a soft voice spoke up.

“Happy Anniversary, Buck.”

It took a couple of seconds for the words to sink in. Bucky’s eyes flew open and he blinked down at Wolf who’d fallen straight to sleep, snoring softly, and twisted his head around to look at Steve.

“Shit.”

He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten.

Steve still had his eyes closed, lips curling up into a smile anyway, and threaded their hands together, lifting his head to kiss the wedding band on Bucky’s left hand.

“You can make it up to me tomorrow night, go to sleep. I promise I’ll tell Sam you remembered, otherwise you owe him stuff, I think.”

“What the hell?” Bucky said under his breath. He’d really, really fucked up. Sam wasn’t getting anything, bet be damned.

It was Steve who manhandled him this time, wrapping himself around Bucky’s back like he was forgiven already, like he was loathe to let him go, _and oh_ , Bucky completely understood that. He felt exactly the same way. And of course Bucky was going to make it up to Steve, he had plans forming in his brain already.

God, he couldn’t believe it had been a whole year of this.

Of domesticity, of a marriage, a life-long easy as breathing partnership that they almost never had.

It had come from the dust, from the sacrifices of others, from never-ending wars, and a goddamn miracle.

Two men out of time, finding their way back to each this way. It was a fucking fairytale.

But he owed it to those who’d given them their chance to make all of this worth it.

And there was no doubt in Bucky’s mind, that they would.

He pressed a long, lingering kiss to the wedding band on Steve’s finger, bringing their hands to his chest, right next to his heart.

 

They both _deserved_ their happy ever after, and there wasn’t any force in this universe that’d stop them.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm on twitter as [Bhumzi](https://twitter.com/Bhumzi) and on Tumblr as [Babblingbhumzi](https://babblingbhumzi.tumblr.com/) where you'll find me crying over these two and much, much more. And thank you so much for getting to the end! I hope that I can write happier, less angsty stuff for them once I get over that ending. (Who am I kidding...I'm never going to get over it!) 
> 
> But here's hoping I can carry on writing for these two boys anyway! Thanks again! ♥


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